


Sensory Deprivation

by boywonder



Series: Kinktober 2018 [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts - Fandom, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, D/s undertones, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 23:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywonder/pseuds/boywonder
Summary: “Do you trust me?” came a whisper across Credence’s neck.“Yes, Mr. Graves,” Credence answered.





	Sensory Deprivation

**Author's Note:**

> done for kinktober day 3, "sensory deprivation"
> 
> also don't @ me about this ship for any reason bc I genuinely do not care; if you don't like it, don't read it. also they're both adults, in case that is a thing that you're worried about.

“Do you trust me?” came a whisper across Credence’s neck. 

“Yes, Mr. Graves,” Credence answered. He didn’t hesitate, but his voice trembled slightly. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise, responding to the feel of the wizard’s breath so close to his skin.

Graves surely noticed (he noticed everything), but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he simply said, “Good boy. Close your eyes.”

Credence did as he was told. Even if he was nervous - and he _was_ , he always was - he didn’t want to disobey. He never wanted to do anything that would make Mr. Graves cross or disappointed with him. He stood there for a minute, all but holding his breath, uncertain what the older man was planning to do. He hoped it was magic, but he shoved that hope down as soon as he’d begun to feel it. He knew better than to think things like that, even if Mr. Graves said it was all right.

The boy tensed as he felt a cloth against his face, covering his eyes. He started to raise his hands, protesting before he could think better of it.

“Relax,” Graves said, quietly, but in a tone that did not leave room for argument. Credence rarely argued, anyway, but he especially wouldn’t push back against that.

Credence’s hands closed into fists, but he lowered them. He wasn’t exactly _relaxed_ , but it would have to do.

Graves accepted that, for the time being, and tied the blindfold snugly. “Too tight?” he asked, knowing the answer, but asking for courtesy’s sake.

Credence shook his head a little.

“Words, Credence,” Graves said, still all business, all authority.

“No, Mr. Graves,” Credence said, immediately.

Credence was, of course, still tense under Graves’s hands when they came to rest on his shoulders. Graves was used to that, though. He moved his hands slowly, from Credence’s shoulders, down towards his collarbones. With practised fingers, and maybe a little magic, he undid the top button on Credence’s shirt, and then the next. He had already had Credence take off his jacket and shoes earlier. He let his hands linger there for a moment, sliding one hand beneath the thin fabric to touch Credence’s already-flushed skin. Credence wondered if Mr. Graves could feel his heart pounding.

Graves undid the rest of Credence’s shirt, clearly switching to magic to undo the last few buttons. He used his hands to slide it off the boy’s shoulders. Credence stayed tense but didn’t resist. He moved his arms just enough to help the fabric slide off.

The air was cooler on his skin than he was anticipating; Graves’s flat wasn’t _cold_ by any means, and it was a warm enough day outside, but Credence’s senses were off a little, thanks to the blindfold. With his eyes covered, he was feeling physical sensation more acutely. His natural keyed-up state didn’t help that matter any, either.

Graves leaned down and pressed a kiss to Credence’s bare shoulder. Credence’s breath caught. He couldn’t ever seem to get used to this man’s attention being focused on him like this. He didn’t understand what this man - this _wizard_ \- saw in him. He was no one. Graves said he was special, but he didn’t feel it. All he could do was hope that Graves wouldn’t come to think this was a mistake.

“Take the rest of your clothes off for me,” Graves said, speaking just next to Credence’s ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps across his exposed skin.

“I can’t see,” he said, lamely.

“You don’t need to see to undo your trousers, do you?” Graves said, teasing but not annoyed.

Credence swallowed. “No, sir,” he said, feeling foolish about it. Graves smiled, just a little, at the switch from his name to “sir,” but of course Credence couldn’t see it. 

Credence did as Graves had asked, then, undoing his belt and then his trousers with surprisingly steady hands. Graves was right, of course; he didn’t need to see to take his pants off. The man was still standing behind him, and of course Credence couldn’t see anyway, but he was sure he could feel Graves’s gaze watching him undress. Still, he managed to remove all the rest of his clothing without hesitation. Maybe the blindfold made him braver. Maybe he just didn’t want to have to be told again. Maybe those were the same thing, in the end.

Once Credence had taken his clothes off, Graves pulled him around, slowly, so they were facing each other. Credence could feel his face redden, but the blindfold meant that he didn’t have to try and meet Mr. Graves’s eyes. He only had to endure knowing that the older man was looking at him. Somehow, it was more bearable this way, if only just.

“If I tell you to kneel, can you do that, or shall I help you?” Graves asked. He was always so matter-of-fact about everything, even when it was a prelude to something Credence knew was dirty. 

“I can do it,” he answered. Graves didn’t say anything in response. It took Credence a moment to realise that he was _waiting_. He could imagine the look Mr. Graves must be giving him: one eyebrow slightly raised, as if to say, “Well?” Still, he hesitated for another half a minute before he finally willed himself to move. He lowered himself carefully to his knees, catching himself on the ground with his hands. Really, he had enough practise kneeling that the movement in and of itself was readily familiar. Of course he could do it blind, though usually his purpose for kneeling was much different - and he wasn’t naked then.

He heard Graves take a step towards him, though he hadn’t been far away, to begin with. 

“Look at me,” came the order. Credence did. As he did, Graves’s hand caught him under the chin, tilting his face to exactly the angle he wanted. He ran his thumb over the boy’s lower lip. Credence, without thinking, opened his mouth slightly. Graves took it as the invitation it was and slid his thumb between Credence’s lips. Credence couldn’t decide what to do about it and froze. Graves made a noise that sounded a little like disappointment, but really, he was used to this. Credence had never been _unwilling_ , but he was always overly hesitant.

Graves pulled his hand back. Credence heard the sounds of his clothes rustling, but he wasn’t sure if he was taking them all off or not. He didn’t always. 

Credence started to look back down.

“Credence,” Graves said, almost as if issuing a warning. Credence lifted his head again right away.

“Open your mouth,” Graves said. His tone hadn’t changed.

Credence figured he wasn’t supposed to like that tone, but he _did_. Or, rather, he had a complicated sort of feeling about it. He didn’t want Mr. Graves to _have_ to use that tone, because he knew it meant that he had done something wrong. But something in that tone lit a fire inside him that he had nowhere near enough knowledge to sort out.

He did as he was told, that fire driving him past his usual reluctance.

“Good boy,” Graves said, and Credence heard - or imagined he heard - a smile creep into his voice. He liked _that_ tone, too. He liked that tone even more than the other one.

Although he had guessed what Mr. Graves was going to do, Credence was still surprised when he felt the head of the older man’s cock press into his mouth. He tensed up, but caught himself before he could jerk away. Graves’s hand twined itself into his hair, though not tightly; he wasn’t holding the boy there, but the touch reminded Credence that there wasn’t any reason to struggle away from it. He opened his mouth further.

Graves, for his part, pushed his cock further into the boy’s mouth, though not far enough to choke him or make him struggle or pull away. He could have moved faster, or harder, and Credence - ever wanting to please him - would have done his best to accommodate. But that wasn’t what this was about; not this time, anyway. He pulled back after a moment, then pushed in again. 

Credence was eager enough about all of this when he wasn’t too busy thinking about it. Maybe it was the strangeness of it, with the blindfold and the touch of uncertainty, that made it easier for him. _That_ was more what this was about - not entirely, perhaps, but at least partly. In his eagerness, Credence reached up, wanting to use his hands as well as his mouth.

“No,” Graves said - an instruction, not an admonition. 

Credence put his hands back down again. He did his best to use only his mouth. At first, he was hesitant, and he let Graves do most of the work for him. After a couple minutes, though, he relaxed enough to enjoy what he was doing. Graves could feel the change in him, and finally dropped his hand from where it was still in Credence’s hair. He let that hand grip the base of his cock, holding it still and letting Credence do what he wanted with his mouth. It was a little clumsy, and a little messy.

After a few minutes, Graves put his other hand back in Credence’s hair and held him there, thrusting into his mouth. He wasn’t rough about it, though he wasn’t as gentle as he’d been to start, either. Credence moaned around him. It was easier for him like this (which was probably why Graves hadn’t just done it to begin with).

“Do you want more than this?” Graves finally asked, pulling back far enough from Credence’s mouth to give him room to answer.

Credence was still for a couple moments, trying to summon an answer. He didn’t manage it, and instead leaned forward to chase after Graves’s cock again. Graves wasn’t having it. He tightened his hand in the boy’s hair, keeping him where he was.

“ _Words_ , Credence,” he said again.

Credence forced himself to take a breath, then answered, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Credence faltered, not sure which possible answer was the right one. Finally, he answered, “Yes, sir?”

Graves chuckled slightly. “Give me your hands,” he said.

It took an enormous amount of effort for Credence to obey that instruction, but he did it, offering his hands, palms up out of habit.

Graves took them, running his thumbs across the boy’s palms, then turned them over. He still held them, though, and pulled Credence up. As the boy rose, Graves let go of one of his hands to make sure he could steady himself if he stumbled. He didn’t.

Graves brought his hands up to Credence’s face. He rested his forehead against the boy’s. Credence could hear his breathing, as if he was just a _little_ winded. It was the only sign he had, without being able to see, that Graves was affected by the fact that Credence had just been sucking his cock. 

“Yes, sir, _what_?” Graves whispered.

Credence’s pulse, already speeding, raced faster. He knew Mr. Graves liked to hear him say dirty things. It was hard for him to do it; he couldn’t quite overcome the feeling of shame about any of it. Mr. Graves never made him feel ashamed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling anyway. Usually, though, his wish to not disappoint the older man won out over the shame. He could swallow shame, hide it away like he did so many other things. But he hated to hear disappointment in the man’s tone. He couldn’t force that away. 

“Yes, sir, I want more,” he said, barely above a whisper. They were so close, though, that there was no way his words had gone unheard.

“Tell me what you want,” Graves said.

Credence shook his head. He didn’t _mean_ to protest, exactly; he just struggled with the words. “Mr. Graves, please, I can’t-”

Graves moved one hand and caught Credence’s chin, stilling him. His fingers tightened. 

“No. Tell me.” Graves was using that tone again, the one that Credence knew he probably shouldn’t like but did anyway. 

Still, he choked on the words.

Graves didn’t let go of the boy’s face, but his other hand moved between their bodies. The backs of his knuckles ran down the middle of Credence’s torso, sliding down towards where the boy’s hard cock was waiting. He brushed his fingers over the leaking tip of it, causing Credence to gasp. He would have jerked away, surprised by the contact, but Graves’s hand on his face kept him there.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Graves asked. His tone was casual, as if he was just asking about the weather, or what Credence wanted to eat for lunch. Credence always found this _scandalous_. Just hearing the words like that, as if they were nothing, sent a thrill through him. He felt hot, at odds with how cool he’d been when he first undressed. This wasn’t the filthiest thing he’d ever heard Mr. Graves say (and it wasn’t even the filthiest thing he’d said back, a fact that seemed much more shameful away from the man than it ever did in the moment), but it still affected him. 

“Mr. Graves-”

Again, the man’s fingers tightened on Credence’s face. “I don’t want to have to ask you again.”

Credence’s pulse raced so fast he was sure he’d be dizzy if Mr. Graves did let go of him.

“Yes, sir,” he responded, the words rushed together as if they were one. He knew that wasn’t all he was supposed to say, so before he could think better of it, he used the scant remnants of the breath he was trying not to hold to say, “Please. Fuck me. Please, sir, I want you to.”

Graves let go of Credence’s face. He didn’t get dizzy. 

Graves took Credence’s shoulders and turned him. Credence wasn’t ready for it, but he moved anyway, and managed not to stumble. Graves guided him forwards, slowly. He kept his hands in fists at his sides; he didn’t want to try to feel around with them, because it seemed to him that wouldn't be very trusting. He let Graves guide him and tried not to think too hard about where his feet were and whether he might fall.

Graves stopped moving Credence and took his hands off the boy’s shoulders. He slid his hands down Credence’s arms until he could catch his wrists and draw them back behind him. He held Credence’s wrists there with one hand. He placed the other on Credence’s back, just above his shoulder blades, and pushed. Credence resisted for only a second before he let Graves bend him over. He was a little afraid that there wouldn’t be anything to support him, and he’d just have to stand there awkwardly, but as he bent lower, he realised that Graves was bending him over the table. He could feel his face flush, but he let it happen anyway.

Graves didn’t let go of his wrists. “Open your legs further,” he said, and then, “That’s it,” when Credence did as he said. He moved his free hand down along the boy’s spine, moving almost tenderly over the parts where there were scars, but not lingering. He turned his hand to tease a finger against the boy’s ass. Credence’s breath caught again and he went a little stiff, squeezing his eyes shut tighter behind the blindfold for a moment in anticipation. But Graves wasn’t cruel enough to leave him dry. Instead, he pulled his hand away for a moment. When he brought it back, there was liquid on his fingers. Credence didn’t know where he’d gotten the liquid, but he assumed that it was probably magic. So many little things that Graves did, he did with the use of magic. It was just a part of him.

“Relax,” Graves said, softly, almost kindly. He pressed one now-slick finger into Credence’s body, slowly, not wanting to hurt him. Of course, Credence didn’t really relax, but he tried to. It hurt a little, but he knew it would, and the hurt wasn’t _bad_ , anyway. When Graves was satisfied that Credence had adjusted enough, he added another finger. That drew a gasp and then a moan from the boy. Graves made a satisfied humming sound in response and worked his fingers in and out, slowly - almost too slowly.

“Please,” Credence finally managed to say, breathlessly.

“Please, what?” Graves responded, predictably.

Credence’s face moved, as if to turn away. WIth his cheek against the table, unlike when there was a pillow involved, there was nowhere he could turn to hide. He didn’t answer. Graves slowed his hand so he was barely moving.

“Well?” he prompted. The slightest edge crept back into his voice; he was patient, but not infinitely so. 

Credence knew it was pointless to choke back his words now. This was already obscene, wasn’t it? He was bent, naked, over a _table_. He’d already said one dirty thing. What did it matter if he said another, or even a whole string of them? Only Mr. Graves would know.

Well, Mr. Graves and God, but Credence cared less and less these days what God thought of him, blasphemous as that was. Anyway, God would hear him if he just thought it, right? What did any of it matter?

“ _Credence_ ,” Graves said, and pulled his hand away.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Graves, please don’t...don’t stop,” the boy said, forcing his voice to work again.

Graves obliged him, bringing his fingers back and pushing them back inside the boy again. He added a third. Credence bit down on a moan, trying to find a way to turn that into words again.

After a few moments, he managed, “Please, fuck me, sir. I want you to, I want…”

He trailed off into nothing, but it was enough. 

“Yes. Good boy.”

Graves pulled his hand away again, only this time, he replaced his fingers with his cock. He’d slicked himself with liquid, as well. Credence was more pliant now, not exactly relaxed, but at least too needy to be one big ball of tension. His legs moved further apart, unthinkingly. Graves still held his wrists with one hand. Once he pushed into Credence enough to no longer need his other hand to hold his cock in place, he put that on the boy’s hip.

He pushed all the way in, held there until he was satisfied that Credence was ready, then pulled back and repeated the motion. Credence moaned again under him and pushed his hips back as well as he could, begging with his body in a way his mouth still wouldn’t quite manage.

Graves gradually increased the pace of his thrusts. Credence did his best to match the rhythm, finally managing it. They moved together seamlessly for a minute or two before Graves increased both his speed and let go of some of his carefulness. He had been rough with the boy before, and Credence wasn’t the only one who _wanted_.

Credence cried out as Graves got rougher with him, but his cries weren’t cries of pain.

Graves let go of Credence’s hip and twisted his hand in the boy’s hair instead. He pulled him up like that, getting a cry that was _partially_ from pain when he did, bringing their bodies more flush. He stilled his hips, leaving Credence to struggle against him to find friction again.

“I’m going to let go of your wrists,” Graves said, voice somewhat ragged, “and I want you to touch yourself while I fuck you.”

“Mr. Graves-”

“Don’t argue with me,” Graves warned.

“No, sir,” Credence said, immediately.

“Don’t disobey me, either.”

“ _No, sir._ ”

Graves did as he’d said, then. He let go of Credence’s wrists. He also let go of his hair. Credence had been unconsciously relying on Graves to hold him where he was, and he started to fall forward. He caught himself with one hand on the table. Graves’s hands found their way back to his hips, but the man didn’t actually move again until Credence did as he’d ordered, using his other hand to slowly start to stroke his cock.

Graves kissed the back of Credence’s neck, open mouthed and hungry. “Good boy,” he murmured against Credence’s skin, almost too low to be heard. He could tell, though, from Credence’s reaction - pushing back against him again, moving his hand faster and with more surety - that he’d heard. He said those two words so often because he knew how much Credence longed to hear them.

He fucked the boy in earnest, then, not bothering with more words and not demanding any more of Credence. It didn’t take long for the boy to come, overwhelmed by sensation and from waiting this long. He was gone enough to not think about the mess he was surely making on the table and floor. 

The way Credence tightened around him as he came pushed Graves over the edge, too. He tightened his hands on the boy’s hips hard enough to bruise, but it wouldn’t be anything at all for him to heal those bruises, on the off chance someone else might see them. For now, though, it didn’t matter.

Credence managed to keep himself up on his shaking arm, still braced against the table. After a minute, Graves pulled away and out of him, drawing a noise that was almost a protest from the boy before he could stop it. He was gone for a minute, leaving Credence uncertain of what happened next. He couldn’t really hear Graves moving behind him, but then again, he was overwhelmed by his own still-racing heart and ragged breath. Then, with impossibly steady hands, Graves pulled Credence away from the table just a bit, turning the boy towards him.

His hands were gentle again as he held Credence’s chin and leaned in to kiss him. Credence’s surprise was evident, but he returned the kiss after only a heartbeat, opening his mouth to Graves much easier than he’d done anything else. He was always hungry for something that seemed like affection. Graves indulged him, kissing him for a long while before breaking the kiss to make sure the boy remembered to breathe.

Finally, Graves waved a hand, causing the blindfold to untie itself. It fell into the small space that now existed between them. Credence blinked a few times, adjusting to the light in the room again. He didn’t meet Graves’s eyes right away; that was the hardest thing to do, even harder than talking.

Graves let that go, at least for now. 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Credence nodded. Before Graves could admonish him, or tell him _words_ again, he said, “Yes, Mr. Graves.”

Graves nodded; Credence caught the motion, though he wasn’t looking directly at the man’s face. Graves leaned in and kissed the boy again, softly, though it was over as soon as it had started.

“We have a little time. Come clean up,” he said, turning away, fully expecting Credence to follow him down the hall to the bathroom.

Credence, dutifully, obeyed.


End file.
